Before You Faded
by TheCatWithTheHat
Summary: "-Who the hell are you? you gasp at the Adjucha. -Grimmjow, he half-snarls." That's how they met - the 3rd Espada and the 12th Arrancar - before they joined Aizen. Now entangled in the overlord's lies and rules and twisted commands, watch as they fall into an illegal love that can only end in tragedy for everyone. Not AU. GrimmNel.
1. encounter

~B_e_fo_r_e Y_o__u__ F_ade_d_~

1. encounter

"i saw you across the room, and i knew that this was going to blossom into something...beautiful."  
_can't stand it. never shout never. what is love._

* * *

It is night, as usual. Around you, the endless sand stretches on, far beyond what even your eye can see. A crescent moon, its tips nearly touching, hangs suspended in the sky; but not a single star winks anywhere near it. A few scraggly bushes poke their way up from the sand, dead fingers framing sand dunes long forgotten. In the distance, you can hear the sound of his bell ringing; the creepy sound is enough to set your teeth on edge. You prance nervously, your hooves driving into the ground with each step, your tail flicking around your back legs as though you are attempting to ward off flies. A rodent, its bleached face glowing, surfaces from the sand for a moment before scuttling back below the surface.

You brush your hands down the fur carpeting up to just under your shoulders, dislodging grains of sand. It looks more like a shag dress than normal hair; sticking to your body but closer and more dense than a male's - and green. You'll readily admit that you're hairier than most people, however, you find it difficult to care less. You raise your head to the sky as a wind blows over the sand from behind you, blowing your hair across your cheekbones. You inhale, intending to catch the scent of fresh air, but that's not exactly how it happens.

Instead you smell predator.

Your hooves storm sideways with precision, nervous system instantly on red alert. Your eyes widen against the landscape, shifting left and right, attempting to spot the predator that you smelled.

Or _is_ it a predator? you wonder. The scent is unlike anything you've ever experienced. It definitely does not smell like an Arrancar, or any sort of Hollow. Something stirs within you; something, perhaps, from your days as a low-level Hollow, maybe even from back when you were a Gillion. But your newer Vasto Lorde mind does not recognize the scent.

Then, far out, you spy three shapes, emerging from the gloom. You skitter forward tentatively, your tail flicking like mad. You twist your finger in the spiral pattern of hair around your navel, waiting for them to approach you, hoping that they're friends and not enemies. If they're enemies, you can always fight them; the four heavy hooves you sport, as well as your two hands, are good enough weapons for trespassers in this desert world. But violence is something you try to avoid as much as possible. You hate it.

The shapes get closer. You can now see that they are some sort of new creature; tall, walking on two legs like the king, but skin covers their faces like you. Two of them have pale skin, one has dark. They are dressed in black robes with a type of white cape or vest covering it, and each carries a sheathed sword at their side. They look male. You tense to fight or to run; females are few and far-between around here, and some males will do anything to get their hands on one. You know of a group of females around here somewhere, but you haven't dared join them. You fear that your power will prove to be too much for their bodies, and you will accidentally destroy them.

They reach you. You try to keep your face calm, but your body betrays you; the bottom half skittering nervously on the sand. The male in the middle's face looks slightly amused, to his right stands a man who looks very amused, and to his left stands a man who looks serious.

-Hello, says the man in the middle. -I am Sôsuke Aizen. Aizen-sama.

He extends a hand to you, but your muscles refuse to work. This man has such astounding Spiritual Pressure that your body won't respond at all, except for your legs, which continue to prance. The very amused man taps his shoulder.

-Captain, he says, still smiling. -You can stop showing off your power now. She gets it.

-Oh, you're right, Gin, the man called Aizen-sama says, and the Spiritual Pressure diminishes a bit. You still refuse to take his hand.

-What to you want? you ask.

Aizen's gaze looks you up and down. -You are a Vasto Lorde, are you not?

-I am, you say. -Who are these two?

-I am Gin Ichimaru, and my silent friend here is Kaname Tôsen, the very amused man says. Tôsen, without looking over at Gin, says, -Oh, do shut up.

-You are obviously very powerful, Aizen-sama says. You nod - not much you can do about that. -I would like to know if you would be willing to join me.

-What are you? you ask him bluntly.

Aizen pretends to be confused. -What, now?

-What are you? You're not a Hollow. You're not an Arrancar. You're nothing I've ever seen before. I'm asking you what you are. Your gentle voice is not used to making commands. It's not even really used to talking. You suddenly catch a whiff of the king from their robes, and realize they've just come from him. You can't help but back away a little, the green hair covering your torso rippling with the movement.

-That's a good question, Aizen-sama says. -Although I'm surprised you have risen to the rank of Vasto Lorde without ever realizing what we are. Gin, Kaname, and I are Shinigami. Soul Reapers, if you will. It was once our job to hunt and slay creatures like you. Aizen-sama stalks forward a bit, still smiling. -Yes, I do believe that it's our duty to kill you.

You retreat in terror. Fighting doesn't even cross your mind. Aizen-sama is more powerful than anyone you have ever met in your whole life. He would kill you before you can land a scratch on him.

-Yes, he says, lazily reaching for her, I must say that -

Out of nowhere, something white flashes through your vision. Your legs rear up in terror. You blink to see a white body rolling through the sand away from you to your left, appearing winded. Aizen-sama has one finger up, as though he had fended the blow away with just that touch, and his expression is amused and disappointed.

-Well, well, well, he says. -What have we here?

The white thing stands. It's a panther: white with black stripes, a hole going through its stomach. Its spine is on the outside of its body, laying on the top of the hole and extending off to form a long tail. Its eyes are blue, bright blue. Azure, even. Make that _his_ eyes are blue - you can smell his maleness from where you stand. He shakes himself off with one movement, sand scattering from his muscles as he glares at Aizen-sama.

-What is this? A powerful male molesting a weak female? he sneers.

-Watch it, Adjucha, you hiss.

Aizen-sama smiles. -Oh, I wasn't doing anything to her, Adjucha. I was simply telling her that I used to be someone who would have to kill her, but now...well, I'd love it if she would join me, I must say. He directs his smile at you. -I'll meet you here tomorrow at this time. Please have your answer by then. His form shifts and him and his partners are gone.

You legs buckle under you, and you collapse onto the sand. -Who...the hell...are _you?_ you gasp at the Adjucha.

-Grimmjow, he half-snarls. -And you are...?

-Someone. What are you doing here?

-Saving your ass- what does it look like?

Okay, well, he does have a point. -I mean - where did you come from? you ask.

-I -

Grimmjow breaks off from his personal history. His eyes widen. -What -? he chokes out. His body begins to shake. Bright blue light twists around him, up and up and up into the sky. You have to shield your eyes because it is so bright - but when you look again, the Hollow before you has changed.

It is now a man. He is as tall as you are, his body still white, but now the stripes are thinner. His mask fragment covers his forehead, and long, light blue hair flows from his head. His legs are pieced together strangely, almost looking like they bend backward, and his feet are small and black like a panther's. His hands are also black, his claws long and lethal. He has sharp teeth like an animal, and blue markings under his still-azure eyes. His hollow still goes through his stomach, and you can see his spine still on the outside of his body going back behind it, and then becoming a skeletal tail.

He looks at his hands in disbelief, then twists around and looks behind him at his back, astonished.

-What-?

-Wow. You must have been close to the breaking point. I imagine just being close to that man made you a Vasto Lorde, you say. -Congratulations.

-Wh- huh? Really? He grins. -A Vasto Lorde?

You know what will happen next. You've been around far too many males. And you're correct. Grimmjow raises his hands to the sky, throws back his head, and laughs. You wait until his fit is over before clopping over and giving him a big pat on the back. To your surprise, he pulls you into a hug, squeezing you tightly, still laughing a bit.

-Can you believe it? he exclaims. -Can you BELIEVE it?

You can. He was a very powerful Adjucha, even before he came in contact with that incredible Spirit Energy. Now he is even more powerful. But still not as powerful as you are.

This is unfortunate, because it means you'll have to leave him. You were rather enjoying his company. And for once, this is not a male you'd like to destroy, however accidental the destruction may be.

He still hasn't let go. -So what are you going to tell him? Grimmjow rumbles. -You going with that Shinigami?

-You make it sound like a bad thing.

Despite the fact that you have long legs, Grimmjow is still taller than you, your head coming up to about his jaw. -Maybe it is, maybe it isn't, he amends, shrugging; either way, it doesn't matter to me. I think he's dangerous. You should stay away from him.

You pull out of his celebratory embrace (because being hugged by a stranger is awkward no matter how you look at it), looking up into his bluish face. -But what's this compared to danger? I think I might rather die than stay out here forever. It's insanely boring.

Grimmjow barks a sharp, short laugh. -You really think so? You should try traveling around with Hollows sometime. Great way to pass the time. He sneers, his upper lip lifting to reveal his sharp, canine teeth. There's something attractive about them. You shake your head to ward it off.

-Yeah. Unfortunately, other Menos' company is not something I can afford to have. You smile tentatively. -My Reatsu always proves to be too much, and they crumble into dust in the sand.

-How poetic.

-I've had hundreds of years to practice. You twirl your finger in the spiral of hair near your navel again, your nail combing through the short green hair. -Had /you/ ever heard of Shinigami before now?

-Of course. You're the only ignorant one. Grimmjow begins to walk, his legs bouncing like they have shock absorbers in them. He turns back to you, his long hair twisting over his shoulder. -Well? You coming?

-Where are we going?

-To get dinner. He flashes a lethal smile at you. You shiver; clutching your arms under your breasts, and follow him. Eating is your least favorite part of the day; killing things goes against your nature as well as your morals. It is something that you wish you could skip altogether.

Grimmjow, however, could not look more excited. He is practically bouncing along on the sand, the shock absorbers in his legs enhancing the effect. His long hair flounces behind him, and he doesn't give a backwards glance to see if you're following him.

But you /will/ follow him. This is the longest anyone has ever lasted around you before they perished. You can't help but want to keep company with at least someone; so, hesitantly, you follow him, your hooves digging into the sand with every step. Confidence suddenly aids you, and you gallop forward for a second to catch up with him, light green hair blowing briefly behind you before you slow to a stop and it falls down to your furry back. He stumbles for a second, and his black hand falls on your other back, the ibex part, to keep his balance; but when he regains it, his hand stays there, companionably resting on the dip in the middle.

You walk on, the two of you, side by side, feeling...well, at least you feel like you've found a friend, finally. It's been a long time coming.

Suddenly Grimmjow raises his head in the air and sniffs. He smells his prey. You wilt a little; killing will happen here, with a hunter as deadly as him. It's not something you're happy about. But you need to eat, so you resign yourself to the fact that something is going to die.

Grimmjow bounds away. You can see the unfortunate Adjucha now; a weak male, probably just now becoming an Adjucha. Grimmjow pounces like a cat, hair swinging wildly, and kills the beast before he has even realized what is happening. Next thing you know, Grimmjow has turned, his face and paws dripping with blood, his lips stretched wide into a sadistic smile. He nods his head to you to come join him and, stomach turning with revulsion, you do so.

After the meal is over, you feel very tired. Grimmjow's lids are also drooping, his body and mind exhausted from the strain of updating Hollow class. You offer him to stay with you that night; he accepts a bit too eagerly for your comfort, but you fold your green legs down into the sand and he rests his head against your side, his arms folded behind his head, staring up into the sky. His hair is really soft; you play with a tiny piece of it, which he doesn't seem to notice.

-Say, he says; I still don't know your name.

You hesitate to tell him what the real truth. But you decide to throw all caution to the winds. -Yeah, I don't either.

-Oh, you never named yourself? You should have done that a while ago. He shrugs, his shoulders moving up and down against the bristly fur on your second stomach. -Maybe we should make up a name for you. Before you join that guy, I mean.

An awkward silence stretches over the two of you. You squirm slightly under the pressure.

-You are going to join him, right? he hedges after a moment.

You squirm some more. -I don't...know. I hadn't really...thought about it, I guess?

He snorts. -You've been thinking about it this whole time. Don't lie to me, sweetheart.

Under the pink stripe covering your cheeks, your face heats up at the casual nickname. -I'm not lying. Even that's a lie. You have been thinking about it this whole time. And what you have come up with is this:

-I'll go if you go.

-Sorry to disappoint you, but I wasn't invited, Grimmjow reminds you a little impatiently. -You don't just show up at a party without an invitation, right?

You sneak a little peek at his face. He's staring impassively at the sky, his blue eyes focused and intent. His lips are parted, revealing his sharp, animalistic canines. His face is illuminated from above, the everlasting moonlight casting very sharp shadows on his face.

-I'm inviting you, you say.

He doesn't stir, doesn't even blink. -I don't think you're allowed to have a plus-one just yet.

-Why not?

-That Aizen-sama worries me, he says, not answering your question. -Just his name unnerves me. What kind of man would assume the suffix of 'sama' just before attempting to murder a female?

The last part is said slightly uncertainly; neither of you know what kind of man would do such a thing. You don't know many people, either of you.

-He wasn't actually trying to kill me, you point out. -He was just trying to make a point. There's a difference, Grimmjow.

He snarls angrily, but doesn't argue.

The silence stretches on, coiled and tense. Grimmjow is strangely silent, so you sneak a peek at him. He's asleep, his mouth slightly open, a thin, shiny strand of spit connecting his sharp canines. You sigh, tired as well, and follow in his footsteps, diving into the murky world of dreams.

**!**

-Are they asleep, do you think?

Your mind slowly swims back from dreams to reality. You don't open your eyes yet, though, curious about the childish voices that woke you from your slumber.

-That's not important, because they obviously are, says a second voice. -What's important is, are they lovers or friends? Why are they...why are they...s-s-s-sleeping together? The last part comes out as a kind of embarrassed choke.

-You're always trying to be so dramatic, Dondochakka, says the first voice. -But you just end up acting stupid! They're just friends. If they were lovers, they'd be in each other's arms, duh. Plus, he's, like, a panther thing, and she's like a, like a goat lady or something. Duh.

-Why are you so mean, Pesche?

-Not mean. Just smart.

An animalistic roar has your eyes flying open in alarm. Two figures are crouched over you; one with a large, red, orange, and yellow body and a clown-like mask; the other thin, purple, adorned in a loincloth, and with a white mask shaped like a cross between a horse skull and a crab. What looks like a yellow Post-It note is pinned to its right eye.

-AAHH! they yell in unison, leaping backwards and stumbling over each other, tripping and landing on their butts. The thing they tripped on, a dark purple wormlike thing, slithers a bit and suddenly you can see the whole thing: a huge, HUGE worm/eel thing. The worm/eel tips back it's head and gives another roar, and the tail whiplashes, sending the purple Hollow flying.

Grimmjow stirs.

-The fuck?

-Glad you could join us, you say. -About time you woke up, Grimmy.

He gets to his feet slowly, a snarl forming on his thin mouth. -What. Are. These. Idiots. DOING. HERE? he spits, getting madder with each word. He comes alive suddenly, his eyes dangerous, spit flying, hair twisting around behind him as he lunges toward the male Hollows that woke him, sending them skittering backward in terror.

_-GRIMMJOW!_

You lunge after him, snagging his long white tail in panic and yanking him backward. He yowls in pain and falls backwards with thump. Sand billows up from his fall and the tail is yanked from your hand.

-Calm down, Grimmjow, you say impatiently. -They're just wandering Adjuchas. Leave them alone.

-But they -! Grimmjow starts, but you raise your hand.

-Don't forget, Grimmjow. I am much stronger than you. Remember your place. You up your reatsu a little, watching him with interest. He holds his ground. Impressed, you up it a little more. His knees start to shake, but he remains on his feet. The other two Arrancars, however, have fallen on the ground in terror.

-Fine, Grimmjow says angrily.

-Fine.

-I hope I'm not interrupting anything, comes a smooth, silky voice.

You spin around as best you can on four legs. Standing behind you is Aizen-sama, flanked by his two thugs, Gin-sama and Tôsen-sama.

-Not at all, you say, instantly uncertain.

-Well then, he says pleasantly. -Have you made up your mind?

You cast your eye down at the ground, gathering resolve. You know that if you don't join him he will probably kill you on the spot.

-As long as these three fools can join us, you say.

Aizen doesn't look surprised at all.

-Well, that depends on what the 'three fools' say, he says agreeably. -What say you, Vasto Lorde?

-S'not like I have anything better to do, Grimmjow says, turning his face away so that Aizen-sama can't see his scowl.

-Adjuchas?

-S'not like we have anything better to do, says the horse Adjucha mockingly.

-Shut the fuck up, you dirty little Adjucha, Grimmjow snarls, and the purple Arrancar dives behind his friend in fear.

-Language, please, Aizen-sama says smoothly.

-So we'll take that as a yes? says the one called Gin, his voice slithering around you like a snake.

-Hai.

-Very good. Please follow us, then, Aizen-sama says. This is your first order, disguised under pleasantry. You know it will be followed by many, many more, all hidden under a mask of perfect politeness, but when it is stripped bare, it doesn't matter if he is ordering you to get him a glass of water or to massacre a village of women and children. You follow his order or he will kill you.

The four of you follow closely behind Aizen-sama and his posse, the Adjuchas trailing you and Grimmjow. Now faced with this powerful man, your argument is forgotten and you are once again allies.

You walk in silence for a little while, not needing words. Finally Grimmjow opens his mouth. -What do you think - for the love of Pantera, what is that?

You ignore the fact that he just interrupted one of his questions to ask a different one and follow his finger. In the distance is a sprawling white building, with a dome sky-high and towers surrounding it all around. The place is seriously massive.

-My palace, Aizen-sama tells you. -Las Noches.

-It looks like it will take us about a year to get there, you comment.

-Very perceptive. Aizen-sama turns to look at you as he walks, one eyebrow very slightly cocked. -That is the effect of my Kyoka Suigetsu. Or...is it?

He snaps his fingers, and the huge white castle seems to ripple. Then all of a sudden, your heads snap back as the castle is suddenly looming before you, straining to see the top of the building.

Gin bows his way to the door, which he pushes open - it's huge, stretching above him, all around, but he seems to open it without any trouble. You step inside, looking all around in awe.

The first thing you notice is the ground, actually. For the first time in your life you're not standing on sand, but smooth white marble. It's cold and almost slippery to stand on. Definitely not designed for hooves. After that you see that the walls are all also made of the same white rock, with white pillars supporting a white ceiling.

-Welcome to Las Noches, Aizen-sama says grandly. -Your new home.

For some reason, the way he says 'home' makes it sound like 'prison.'

* * *

A/N: So the story that so many of you were awaiting has been published at last. :D

I will warn you that this is not going to be updated, like, every week. Maybe every 2 or 3 weeks if I'm lucky. The way this is written makes it extremely difficult. _But_ I think it will be worth the waiting, ne?

I KNOW GRIMMJOW IS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE VASTO LORDE BEFORE HE GOES TO AIZEN. But, know what? I always imagined that all the Espada started out as Vasto Lordes. Otherwise how the hell would they be so powerful? So in my story, that's how it goes. And if you don't like that then I will happily make s'mores on your flames. lololol

So please don't forget to review/subscribe for 2 reasons: 1 because I love to hear from you, and 2 because it always makes me sad when someone sends me a good review and doesn't subscribe, because then I don't know if I'm going to hear from them again. /tear Also, if you're not reading my collaboration with moonlightrurouni, Doomed to Remember/Cursed to Forget, don't forget to check that out as well! :D


	2. shapeshift

~B_e_fo_r_e Y_o__u F_ade_d_~

2. shapeshift

"i was happy in my harbor when you cut me loose."  
_silent sea. kt tunstall. eye to the telescope._

* * *

You and Grimmjow follow Aizen-sama down the hall, and in turn are followed by Dondochakka and Pesche. The silence is unsettling. Apparently, Grimmjow feels that way too, because he moves closer to you and puts his face near your ear.

-Neliel Tu Oderschwank, he murmurs.

You lean away and look at him, confused. -Bless you, you say, puzzled.

-I wasn't sneezing, he says, looking a little offended. -That should be your name. Neliel Tu Oderschwank.

-You're kidding me, you say, aghast. -Neliel Tu Oderschwank? That's even longer than Grimmjow Jeagerjaques. Everyone will think I'm a foreigner.

-You might be, he points out. -You don't look Japanese.

-Green hair isn't normal in the World of the Living, no matter where you are, you tell him. -Neither is blue, for that matter. What nationality are you, anyway?

-I think French, but I'm not sure. He looks almost thoughtful, an expression that doesn't seem at home on his features. -At least, Jeagerjaques sounds French. So I want you to be French too.

You're taken aback by his blatant confession. -You do?

-Well, yeah, he says like its obvious. -'Course. Is that a problem?

His face looks cross and defensive; his white-striped arms are crossed, his eyes shifting around like he's uncomfortable. Despite his discomfort, you feel inexplicably touched. A smile crosses your features briefly, but you don't continue the subject.

-Here we are, Aizen-sama says, stopping in front of a set of double doors, which swing open. You look inside and see a white throne room. The ceiling arcs high; the walls are wide and shimmery. On the other wall opposite you is a white throne mounted on white stairs. But that's not even the main attraction in the room.

In the very center of the room is a blue pole thing. As you watch, it peels off in disc-like chunks, spiraling off of the top. When five or six sections have all adjusted, it stops moving. Aizen-sama invites you closer, and together with the males you clop across the room and peer inside the pole.

What lies there is a boxy object, small enough to fit in the palm of your hand, although it looks more like some kind of elaborate platonic solid than just a simple box. The colors are hard to explain: it appears to have a translucent outer shell, with a glowing purple-blue in the center.

It's unlike anything you've ever seen.

-This, Aizen-sama says, gesturing at the box, is what I call the Hôgyoku. It is going to assist you to become Arrancars and aid us in our fight with the Shinigami.

You look at the bespectacled man in the black robe and white coat and think he looks more like a deranged 5th grade teacher than a scheming traitor.

-What did they do again? Grimmjow asks confusedly. He's obviously nervous in the presence of this power; his backward legs are prancing, his long hair bouncing, his tail flicking about.

-That shall be explained in time, Aizen-sama waves off. -My dear girl, are you ready?

He's looking at you. You gulp a little, but nod.

-Gin, please. Escort our friends from the room, Aizen-sama says.

-Wait - what? Grimmjow exclaims. -Hang on, you never said we'd have to leave!

-That is an order, Aizen-sama adds. His smile is frosty.

-We're not sworn to you yet! Grimmjow yells.

Instantly the spiritual pressure in the room is raised so high that Pesche and Dondochakka are knocked flat on the floor, unconscious. Grimmjow falls to his knees, his hair flowing straight up from the roots, struggling not to be crushed under the power. Even you have to brace your hooves against the slippery floor.

-The moment you walked into this building, you were sworn to me, Aizen-sama says coldly, although his smile is still in place. -I do not want to hear you question my orders ever again. Gin, Kaname, enough with this ridiculousness. Please escort these gentlemen from the room.

That's all it takes. Subdued, Grimmjow allows himself to be lead from the room, and Pesche and Dondochakka are dragged out as well. Aizen-sama faces you now, his pleasant smile back in place.

-What is this Hôgyoku going to do, anyway? you ask.

-Well, it will give you a more human like appearance, Aizen-sama says. -Your four legs will be replaced with just two, and the fur will be removed from your body. I will provide you with a garment. The Hôgyoku will also give you a rank tattoo, which is the measurement of how powerful you are. I have my suspicions that you will be in the Espada ranks, my dear, which are the top ten most powerful in the army - aside from Gin, Kaname, and I, of course. After that, the Arrancar are ranked on the order of their birth.

-And what of Grimmjow? you ask. Perhaps you're imagining it, but for a momet Aizen-sama's smile seems to slip from his face. But then it returns full blast.

-We shall see about him, he says in a way that is neither here nor there. -I shall activate the Hôgyoku, if you are ready...?

You nod, and Aizen-sama smiles.

-Good, he says, and steps close to the Hôgyoku, bending over it. Then he retreats from the thing, standing on the very edge of the room as smoke begins to pour from the pole.

As the smoke envelops you, you feel your legs beginning to tingle. The tingling intensifies until you can no longer stand, and you fall to the ground. The ibex part of your back is shaking like mad, and you can feel it retreat into itself, feel your legs changing shape. Something sears your back as all the fur shrinks inward on your torso, and you close your eyes and clutch your arms, lying on your side until you feel the changes stop.

You open your eyes and look down at yourself. The first thing you notice is that you now have two legs. Hairless, long, ending in awkward feet that bend outwards. You wiggle your toes, astonished by the new muscles, by each seperate phalange that you can now move where there once was just a slippery hoof. You can also see knees, which are another bizarre new body part, and you take the time to tense that muscle as well, making your kneecaps slide up. There's a sex between your legs, as well; hipbones jutting out and sliding down to it. Your breasts are large as ever, except now they are capped by pink nipples that you've never seen before. You are investigating your belly button when Aizen-sama approaches you.

-My dear, you are indeed an Espada, he says. You look at him, thoughts of covering yourself not very close to the front of your mind. -The tattoo is on your back. You are ranked number 2.

-Is that good?

-Very good. He throws you a robe. -Dress yourself. There will be plenty of time for that later, he says. Still sitting on the floor, you slip your arms through the sleeves, which are three quarter length. It comes halfway down your thighs and ties just above your curvy hips. Your hair spills down the fuzzy back as you prepare to stand.

-Do I get to wear this every day? you ask.

-No, you will receive a proper uniform, he says. -Let me escort you to your rooms. Clothing should be waiting there for you.

-Okay.

You attempt to stand and immediately fail, sprawling backwards on your new legs that you cannot yet work. Aizen-sama watches you, amused, but gives no motion or sign that he will help you orient yourself. You roll onto your hands and knees, then push yourself up so that you're just on your knees, but you can't quite figure out where to go from there. If you had something to pull yourself up on, it would help immensely, but this is not going to be forthcoming. So you reach down and brace your hand on the floor, slowly sliding one leg out until you're on one knee. You lift your hand from the floor and immediately flop back onto your side, sprawled on the floor, limbs ungainly and splayed.

-This may take some getting used to, you admit.

-Take your time. Aizen looks willing to wait. -After all, the Hôgyoku wouldn't rank you at 2 for no reason.

You can't argue with that, so you strengthen your resolve; you will stand, you will walk, like a human. Grimmjow does it effortlessly, after all; springing and prancing around like a unicorn, too graceful, too feline for a normal human.

Slowly you get to one knee again, hunched over in the bathrobe. This time you remove your hand from the floor slowly, straightening up and wobbling dangerously. Your foot instinctively twists to the side, providing support for you as you consider your next move.

Now you push your foot up, so your toes are curled under. Then you push forward, bouncing off of the toes and quickly bringing your foot under you, straightening your legs and coming to your full height.

Your feet are placed about a foot and a half apart, your arches rising and falling as you wobble back and forth, determined not to fall over. You turn and give Aizen-sama a gentle smile, with pride.

-Good job, he says. His hand is behind his back, and now he pulls it out. You see that he is holding some kind of sword, sheathed in a green scabbard and boasting a beautiful guard.

-This is your zanpakuto, he says. He walks over to you, and you take the sword delicately, running your hands over it. -It holds your Vasto Lorde powers. You will be able to call them forth using a trigger word and calling out its name.

You look up at this. -Its name?

-Indeed, all zanpakuto have names. He smiles at you as though you are a small child who knows nothing.

-What's this one called? you ask him, studying the sword once more. You pull it about an inch out of its scabbard and see your reflection in the polished silver metal: green hair, ibex skull helmet, pink estigma and hazel eyes, pointy bottom canines. You also see that with your transformation, your horns have shrunk considerably.

-I don't know, Aizen-sama says. -You shall have to ask it yourself.

You're more confused than ever.

-Everything will become clear, he says reassuringly. -For now, we need to get you to your rooms. He snaps his fingers. -Kaname? If you please.

The dark-skinned man re-enters the room. He has his hair braided in cornrows over his skull, and his neck is hidden by an orange scarf that twists up next to his ear. He is also wearing the black robes and white vest that seem to be the Shinigami uniform.

-Give the lady your arm, Aizen-sama orders. Kaname-sama comes closer, offers you his arm. You put your hand on the white fabric hesitantly, take your first human step. You feel off-balance, like a table with only two legs. Like you'll topple over any minute.

-Escort her to her rooms. She is ranked 2. Make sure she can walk, then you may take your leave, Aizen-sama tells his subordinate. Kaname nods. Behind his sunglasses, his eyes are white, empty. He is blind.

-Yes, sir, Kaname murmurs. He helps you slowly to the door, stepping out. There is no sign of Pesche, or Dondochakka, or Grimmjow, or Ichimaru Gin.

You walk in silence for a while. The only sounds are Kaname's boots and your bare feet hitting the cool marble. Your hooves did not have nerve endings in them, and now you have feeling on the bottoms of your feet, and it's marvelous. The chilly white surface feels nice on the soles of your small feet.

-Lord Aizen will want to see your released form, Kaname finally says, his voice toneless. -He would like to know the powers of all the Espada. We have nine as of this moment, since Barragan Luisenbarn is being particularly stubborn, but he will join our ranks soon. When that time comes, Lord Aizen will call a meeting which will detail the war to all of you. Following this he will expect to see each of your power. Be prepared, learn your strengths for when Lord Aizen calls you. He will not tolerate weakness.

You stop outside of a door marked with a 2.

-Inside you will find a bedroom, living space, and bathroom, Kaname says. -Your outfit is on your bed. Meditation with your zanpakuto is recommmended.

-Okay, you say.

Kaname turns on his heel without a further word and heads away. You watch him go with a puzzled look on yor face, then shrug and lean against the door, opening it, letting yourself in.

When you walk inside, it looks at first like a small living room. There is one long white couch, with small black pillows. Two white poufy chairs are facing it, separated by a pale coffee table which is complete with black coasters. There is a rug on the floor, black and white, which seems pointless since there is also a white wall-to-wall carpet. Next to the couch is a small little bedside table, with a lamp.

At the other wall is a small door, so; after inspecting the room, you teeter over to it and open it gingerly. Inside is a bedroom, wide, all white. In the middle is a bed with the headboard pressed against the wall and the rest of the sides isolated by middlespace. There is a small writing desk in the corner, as well as a closet and a stand on the wall that seems to be the right side to fit your zanpaku-thing. There's another small table beside the bed, another lamp adorning this. To the side is a room with an open door, and through this you can see an all-white bathroom with a claw-foot bathtub, a separate shower, and a sink island that runs the length of the space.

Turning your attention back to the bed, you see a small oak chest at the foot. As promised, folded on top of this chest is a white uniform, as well as black socks, white sandals and undergarments. You bypass this and flop onto the bed, your green hair spicing up the room a little, feet hanging awkwardly off of the edge of the sheets.

-This is all happening so fast! you exclaim to the room. -Why, just one hour ago I had four legs and was a free Hollow in the desert.

You roll over onto your back and stare up at the ceiling. It's so white here, so bland.

-I'll have to spruce this place up a bit, you muse to yourself.

Finally you stand and decide to look over the clothing. You discover that it's much easier to stand from a sitting position, on a surface that's above the floor. Once you're standing, you walk shakily over to the dresser and pick up the first piece.

It looks like a pair of pants: loose, long, with a black belt and long slits in the sides. You shrug and put it on. They fit snugly, with a small piece that comes up over your belly. You don't really like the cut-out bit on the sides - they run halfway down your thigh and you can't shake the feeling that it's showing things it shouldn't be - but otherwise you like it a lot.

You turn you attention back to the clothing on the dresser and frown. The removal of the pants from the pile eliminated a lot of fabric, and you're slightly concerned by this. You next pull out something that looks kind of like a jacket, with long sleeves and a collar and a zipper. Except it doesn't even look like it will cover all the way down your breasts.

-There's got to be some kind of tank top or something, you murmur, furrowing your eyebrows a little. Unfortunately, there's not anything that an undershirt could be hiding behind. All that is left on the dresser is socks and sandals.

Could this really be all they expect you to wear? You hold up the half-jacket and frown, then shake your head. Maybe this is what is expected of human-like women, to wear clothing that displays their torso. You undo the bathrobe and let it fall to the floor, then unzip the jacket and slip your arms into it. The sleeves go all the way down, covering the backs of your hands but stopping at your wrist on the other side. The cuffs are trimmed in black, as well as the collar on the jacket.

Frowning even deeper, you struggle with the zipper and then finally get it to latch, dragging it up to your collarbone but no farther. For some reason there is a collar that would cover up to your nose if you had it up all the way. You choose to fold it down around your shoulders and then go to the mirror.

Your face twists. The amount of plain and simple _boob_ showing at the bottom is just weird. You reach up and try to tug it down some, but it won't budge. After a couple more minutes of fidgeting with your outfit, you give up and remember Aizen-sama's gift.

You turn to the sword, which is lying on the bed. You're not really sure how it got there, but dismiss that thought. Crossing the room, you clamber onto the bed and sit cross-legged on the white spread, the gingerly pick up the blade.

First you study the scabbard. It feels like it's made out of some kind of animal hide; most likely Hollow. It's hard, but still a little bit bendy, and smooth. The surface is white, and the top is wrapped with two thick black rubber cords, so that it doesn't fall apart. Or something. The hilt emerges from the scabbard, and then a glorious hilt can be seen, with wrappings the color of the green fur in your Hollow fur, and a deep brown underlayer that can be seen in diamonds. It's capped by a smooth yellow copper end. The hilt is shaped like two subtle crescent moons pressed back to back: silver, curving out a bit at the ends.

You pull the glorious sword from its scabbard and see that the blade is thin, curving the tiniest bit. It's about three feet long. You put your palms up, resting the sword in them, and then lay your hands gently on your knees.

Your eyes close.

* * *

You're in some kind of room. Each wall is painted a light yellow, and the room appears to be glowing. It's a huge room, very large, and does not have any doors leading out, or stairs leading down, or anything. What it does have is a window, or more accurately, a clock face, facing outwards, as though you are inside the clock and looking out. It's backed by a whole mess of machinery, which appears to be functional, since some of the pieces are rotating. Outside of the clock tower, it is clearly night.

There is a lone figure in the room: she is half-human, half-ibex, like yourself, although she does not have a helmet like you. Her back is to you, and the fur on her animal body is red - blood red, although her tail is black like you. Her hair is straight, and it's also bright red, falling down to her hips. From what you can see, her body is covered in armor.

She turns around. Now you can see her face: bangs tucked behind her ears, slanted eyes that are almost lilac colored but with a hint of brown, or mauve, and she looks very serious. She's almost frowning at you. She has rounded ears with some kind of metal earring hanging from them, and her upper body is clothed in armor, from her neck to her waist. She even has it down her arms, where it ends in metal gloves.

-So you're here, says the red woman.

-Where, exactly, is here? you ask her.

-This is your inner world, she says, gesturing at the clock face behind you.

-And who are you?

-My name is Gamuza.

You don't recognize the name, but you do make a point of remembering it. There is a small oak chest against one wall with four small drawers, as well as a rocking horse in the corner and a cabinet filled with painted china. You sit gingerly on the chest of drawers. Gamuza watches you, crossing her metal arms.

-What am I doing here?

Gamuza's feet shuffle on the floor, which you recognize as a sign of impatience. -You came to talk to me, did you not?

This catches your attention. -You're my zanpakuto?

She looks a little offended. -Your zanpakuto is in your hand. I am your Hollow spirit.

-Oh.

That explains the bottom half.

Gamuza runs her metal fingers along her forehead, tucking her hair behind her ear. One lock is too short, it springs back across her forehead. Her eyebrows twitch in irritation. You study her in a new light now that you know who she is: she has very straight posture, her shoulders are thrown back. But it doesn't look forced, she looks naturally noble. Like a queen or some kind of Titania. She has a golden cross on her armor that meets over her heart and splits at the ends. Each segment of the armor on her fingers is jointed, so she can move her fingers easily but without pinching or showing skin.

-Gamuza, you say, trying it out.

She looks at you. -What?

-Oh, um...I was wondering. Aizen-sama mentioned that there was some kind of trigger word? For calling you?

Gamuza closes her eyes and turns her head away from you. -And you want to know what that is, I presume.

-Um...yeah, kind of.

-That's the thing. She turns her whole body away from you. You wonder if you looked that glorious when you had that form. Her body moves effortlessly, each hoof synchronized, the longer fur on her underbelly and legs swaying like grass. She takes a couple steps, then stops, her black tail cascading. -You want to know everything about me, don't you.

-Well, yeah, I mean, seeing as you're my Hollow side and all, but -

-Knowledge has to go two ways, Gamuza tells you quietly. -Maybe you think I'll tell you all this for free, I don't know. I have no idea what about me gives you the notion that I would do such a thing.

You feet slide apart, but your knees stay together; your fingers clench the lip of the cabinet and your shoulders hunch. You knew there was a catch. -So what do you want me to do?

-I want you to find yourself. Abruptly Gamuza turns back to you. She walks over to where you are and puts her finger under your chin, pulling your head up and bending over so that you two are on eye level.

-Don't bother coming back here until you at least have an inkling of who you are.

Then you're gone.

* * *

You're back in your room, still sitting with the sword, a little bewildered as to what might have just happened. You look at the sword again, you look at Gamuza.

_This is my sword,_ you think.

That's when a knock comes at the door. "Lord Aizen has called the first meeting of the Espada," the voice calls, and then you hear footsteps going rapidly away.

You stand. This is what you are here to do. You sheathe Gamuza and strap her to your belt. Then you prepare to meet the Espada.

* * *

A/N: So I was going to add the Espada meeting in this chapter, but I hadn't been planning on the Gamuza bit. Then that just _begged _to be written, and shit happened and finally I was like, hey I'm at 4,000 words and I'll stop here.

It wasn't only the Gamuza scene, it was this entire chapter. I think this was the easiest chapter I have ever written in my life.. I have so many plot bunnies for this story, just a bunch of ideas bouncing about in my poor skull and they'll probably continue to torture me until I get them all down.

Also, if any of you were wondering, Gamuza is based off of Fairy Tail's Erza Scarlet. So if any of you want to see more or less what she looks like, just hit up my buddy GoogleImage and check her out. Just ignore the blue skirt and imagine a red horse instead. lol

P.S. Notice anything odd about Nel? Yeah, those aren't mistakes, and they aren't wishful thinking. They are RELEVANT! :P So let me know what you guys think!


	3. unfamiliar

~B_e_fo_r_e Y_o__u__ F_ade_d_~

3. unfamiliar

"i can keep a secret if you can keep me guessing; the flavor of your lips is enough to keep me here."

_coffee shop soundtrack. all time low. put up or shut up._

* * *

It takes you another spin at the mirror, attempting once more to shove your breasts into your top, before you sigh and finally head for the door. Opening it into the long white hallway, you see that there is a small female Número standing nervously a small distance away, twisting her hands into her striped uniform. When you walk out, her head snaps up instantly, and her expression goes from nervous to terrified.

-Segunda-sama! she cries, executing a deep bow at her waist. –I am here to show you the way to the meeting room!

Her voice stumbles and squeaks throughout her sentence, and you shake your head sadly, feeling pity for this pathetic creature.

-It's okay, you say quietly. –I'm not going to hurt you.

She retreats a few steps in fear, and you sigh. It's pointless to attempt to try to convince her that you're harmless. Instead you nod at her.

-Show me the way, then.

Quickly she turns and scurries off. You have to pace yourself to keep up with her, taking long strides on legs you're not used to yet.

It takes a couple minutes to walk to the meeting room, and it quickly becomes boring. The palace has a beauty all to its own, but after endless halls of white ceiling, walls and floor, it starts to get old and repetitive. You are relieved when you see double doors ahead and the Arrancar stops.

"Here you are," she says, and you nod and open the doors, closing them behind you as you enter.

In the room, there is one long table. Around it are eleven chairs, nine of which are filled. You breathe a sigh of relief _–at least you're not the last one here-_ and hurry to a seat between a woman with wavy purple pigtails and a man with choppy pink hair and a cunning grin. It's dead silent in the room.

As you sit down, you realize that you and the purple-haired woman next to you are the only females in the room. You cut a glance at her, seeing the intricate beaded mask perched on her temple and the violet teardrops painted on her cheeks, her lavender lips and a uniform that covers her most of the way up. Her lilac eyes are checking you out as well, and her face relaxes as little bit as she realizes that she's not going to be the only girl among the group.

_She seems like a nice person. I wonder what rank she is. I guess I do know one thing about her, though. I bet I could guess her favorite color in one try. _Staring down the empty seat, you can't help but wonder who the last person will be. A flash of blue crosses behind your eyelids – could Grimmjow be the last of the Espada? Is he powerful enough to earn a seat among these powerful beings?

That thought has barely crossed your mind when the door opens again. Every eye turns to the door again, your own included as your heart begins to beat a little faster and you hold your breath. It whooshes out as Aizen-sama's figure can be seen silhouetted in the frame, and as he walks inside, you can also see Gin and Kaname behind him.

_So Grimmjow's not going to be here._

Aizen-sama drifts to the empty seat at the head of the table, and Gin and Kaname stay standing behind him, flanking his seat in their odd black-and-white uniforms.

-Welcome, my Espada! he begins. –Welcome, welcome. I am so glad you could join us.

No one speaks.

-Why don't we all go around and introduce ourselves? Aizen-sama asks. –Please be sure to state your rank.

A flicker of irritation seems to pass behind the eyes of just about everyone in the group. But, Aizen-sama is your master, and you now have to obey him. If he wishes to play games, then it must be your wish too.

He nods to the person to his right. You look down the table, seeing a man with slicked-back hair, a thin mustache, a pointed goatee, and a mask spanning his forehead like Grimmjow's.

-Helloooooooo~! cries the man. With just this one word, you can detect a heavy Italian accent. –My name is Dordoni, Dordoni Alessandro del Socaccio, but you can call me Dordoni! I am ranked sexta, six! And this little baby here is Giralda! She is sweet like the chocolate! He taps his sword at his waist, and then flings his arm to the right extravagantly, gesturing at the man seated next to him. –I present to you, the next Espada! Feast your eyes upon him! He is your next companion! Thank you very much!

Everyone takes a second to recover before taking in the man next to Dordoni. He is a huge man, with dark skin and white spikes lining his skull. A bone necklace is around his neck, and he sports skull earrings and a tight-fitting outfit.

-My name is Zommari Rureaux, he says. –I am ranked seventh. My sword is Brujería. The power of _amor._

He closes his mouth, and his eyes abruptly. Already you can see that this is going to be a diverse group of people. The next person in line startles, then grins so wide you think his face is going to fall off.

That's when you get a closer look at him. A chill runs through you. His features are slanted, one eye leering while one is covered behind a thick patch. His hair hangs about his head in black layers, looking greasy and unkempt. Each of his teeth can be seen clearly, his slit nostrils and pointed chin adding to the creepy effect.

-I am known as Nnoitra Gilga, he slithers. In his mouth, his tongue moves about slimily, seeming to use far more motion than most people's. A rank tattoo can be dimly seen on it, but you can't see what it is. –My sword is known as Santa Teresa, the praying mantis. I am ranked eight. The octava Espada. He grins again, baring those horrible piano teeth, then jerks his head to the person next to him.

It's an old man. His spiritual pressure feels familiar, like you've encountered it before. A scar seals his eyelid closed, and his mustache looks to be pushing down his mouth. A crown that actually looks more like a tiara is the form for his mask, and his white hair fluffs out behind it.

-Barragan Luisenbarn, he growls.

Your body freezes. Images of that skull perched on the throne, lazily pulling on the bell rope, run through your head. The grating toll sends a chill down your spine.

-I am ranked 3rd Espada. My sword is named Arrogante. Anything else is none of your business.

You're so shocked still that you don't notice that everyone else has moved on, rounding the table, to a hulking man with a thin black ponytail sprouting abruptly from the base of his skull and an external jaw mask. His jacket is massive, and looks like it could be wrapped several times around your body. Even his hand is roughly twice the size of your head.

-Huh? Me? he grunts. –Oh. Right, I'm Yammy Llargo. I'm ranked 10. My sword is named Irà. When I resurrect I get big.

-You already are big, Nnoitra mutters.

-Moving on, Dordoni purrs.

-I suppose I'm next, says the man sitting next to you, the one with the pink hair. He tosses it, and adjusts his bone glasses, his golden eyes peering out craftily. –I am Szayelaporro Granz. I am ranked noventa. My sword is Fornicarás. I am the scientist among us. My older brother is here also, Yylfort.

-Okay, already, Nnoitra sneers.

Everyone looks at you. Your mouth goes dry.

_You still don't have a name._

-Um, you say, stopping. –Um. Your voice catches in your throat. You see Nnoitra's eyes roaming your body. –I'm ranked 2. My sword is Gamuza…

-What's your name, my dear? Aizen-sama asks with a glint in his eye.

-My name is…

Suddenly you stand up, quickly, putting your hands on the table. –My name is Neliel Tu Oderschvank, you announce.

_There._

Szayelaporro puts up his hands in defense. –It's okay, he reassures you. –You can sit down.

A flush covers your face under your estigma across your cheeks. Slowly, you lower yourself into your chair, wanting to crawl into a hole and die.

-Okay, I'm not sure I can follow that, but… The woman next to you laughs. –My name is Cirucci Sanderwicci, and I am ranked fifth. My sword is Golondrina, and…that's it. She laughs, her purplish lips parting. Then her eyes meet Nnoitra's, and her laugh flickers out.

The look they shoot across the table is one crackling with sexual energy. Your eyes roll.

Next to her is a man with very short brown hair and a thin goatee. His torso is slumped over the table, his head resting his hand, dragging his mouth up. He begins to speak, struggling to make his lips meet, but he seems to prefer that than to straighten his posture.

-Coyote Starrk. Primera. Los Lobos, with Lilinette. Done.

His short statements seem to leave more questions than answers, but what you're most surprised at is the fact that this guy is the most powerful Espada in here. He looks like a bum and seems like he's about to fall asleep. In fact, as you think this, he runs a gloved hand through his short hair and gives a huge yawn.

There's only one left, and you lean out so you can see the last figure. You can see a layered helmet donning half of his skull, a long horn extending from it. Pale skin is accented by black hair, a black upper lip, and green tear tracks sliding down his cheeks. His eyes are closed, but when he speaks, they open. You have to let a little breath out because his eyes are like large, stunning, perfect emeralds.

-I am Ulquiorra Schiffer, the cuarta Espada, he says, and his voice is like smooth dark velvet. –I possess the zanpakuto Murciélago.

Silence falls, and Aizen smiles. –I suppose it's my turn, he says. –My name is Sôsuke Aizen, or Aizen-sama. My blade is known as Kyoka Suigetsu, and it can create any illusion. Behind me are Gin Ichimaru with Shinsō and Kaname Tôsen with Suzumushi.

Gin inclines his head, still smiling. Kaname does not so much as move.

-So I suppose I should tell you what our aim is, Aizen-sama says, still smiling pleasantly. –How many of you have ever heard of Soul Society?

A couple of the Espada raise their hands. Aizen looks around and nods appraisingly.

-What you have heard about is probably the glorious Soul Society that existed over a thousand years ago, before Captain-Commander Genryuusai Shigekuni Yamamoto came to be the head commander, Aizen says. –But now the Soul Society is teetering on the brink of ruin. Anything that they might attempt to do will inevitably fail. That's why we have to strike them now, kick them while they're down, cut at the weakest link, ect cetera.

-So what is your goal? Szayelaporro asks. –Do you wish to become the new Captain-Commander, rebuild the Soul Society?

-Not quite. Aizen-sama's smile grows by a fraction. –Yes, if there was nothing higher I might be content with the position of Captain-Commander. But there is something else I desire, a position of even greater rank and power. That is of the Soul King, the highest of the most high. Unfortunately, the Soul King exists within an entirely different dimension, and in order to reach this dimension you must have a key to open the dimension, if you will.

-Then why don't you just get the key and be done with it? Nnoitra asks, confusion evident on his face.

-The job of the 13 Court Guard companies is to protect the Soul King and the key, although the majority of them are unaware of his existence. They are also tasked with other, minor things like keeping Seireitei safe and helping souls move on to the other life, but, Aizen-sama shakes his head almost sadly, this is unimportant to us. The one thing we are after is the key, which the Soul King alone is in possession of.

-Then can you make a new one? Cirucci asks.

-I can, I can indeed, Aizen-sama says, his smile growing even larger.

-Then why don't you? Yammy grunts.

-Well, for one, if Soul Society knew I was attempting to murder their king, that would put a little obstacle in my plan, Aizen-sama said. –And, for another, the process of making the key is very…shall we say, sacrificial. He smiles indulgently. –In order to create the key, it requires 10,000 souls, among other things.

This takes a second to sink in your brain.

-So you're saying, that in order for you to become the most powerful, thousands of individuals must perish, you confirm in a quiet voice.

-My dear Neliel, when you say it like that, it makes me seem heartless, Aizen-sama remarks, although he doesn't seem particularly bothered by it.

-But is it true? you ask with growing worry.

-I must confess that it is.

-Oh.

You're not quite sure how you feel about this.

-Is that going to be a problem? Aizen-sama asks.

-Uh- no, sir.

-Good.

-I have a question, what exactly are _we_ getting from helping you? Nnoitra asks.

Aizen-sama smiles again. –Firstly, you get power. Power from me, power from the Hogyuku. You get human forms. You get clothing, rooms, food. You get Fracción. And, once I destroy Soul Society, you will become the new captains of the companies, serving under me directly.

Nnoitra thinks about this, and then grunts and sits back in his chair.

-Any other questions?

-What are 'Fracción?' Starrk yawns.

-You may choose any Arrancar below the rank of ten to be your subordinate, Aizen-sama says. –For example, Starrk, you may wish to choose Lilinette. Cirucci, you may want to choose Loly and Menoly. Neliel, you may want to choose Pesche and Dondochakka; Nnoitra may choose Tesla, if he wishes. Ect cetera.

You notice he doesn't list Grimmjow. Does that mean that Grimmjow did not become an Arrancar? Was Grimmjow cast back into the desert? Was he…killed? Your blood runs cold. Of course not. Right?

-Are you required to choose Fracción? Ulquiorra asks calmly.

-No, you are not.

-Can you make your own Fracción? Szayelaporro asks eagerly.

Aizen-sama raises his eyebrow, but his smile stays in place as he nods in affirmative.

-Any other questions? he asks again.

There doesn't seem to be.

-While I have all your attention, then, Aizen-sama says. –I would like to lay down some ground rules for your behavior within Las Noches. First rule is: any Espada ranked Cuarta and above is not allowed to release within the dome. Ulquiorra, Barragan, Neliel, Starrk: if you need to practice with your Resurrection, please do so outside of our castle. Your Spiritual Pressure will cause the dome to collapse. For all Espada, the Gran Rey Cero may not be released within the dome either. This is a special Cero that all of you will be able to fire with a little training.

Seems easy enough.

-I also will permit sparring between my soldiers, Aizen-sama says. –But I ask that you not kill any of the other Arrancar. It was tedious work to gather all of you here, and I would not be pleased if any of that work went in vain.

You nod. Understandable.

-The last ground rule. Sexual intercourse is permitted, but do not abuse that privilege. I do not wish for any type of romantic relationship between my Arrancar. That makes weakness. And any weakness in this war could result in all of our deaths. I will not permit weakness.

For some reason, Aizen-sama is looking right at you, his brown eyes seeming to stare right into your soul. –Any questions?

Again, he is met with silence.

-If that is all…Aizen stands, and you all stand with him. He nods. –Meeting adjourned.

Everyone begins to walk towards the door, going back to their rooms. As you file out, you stop by his seat.

–Actually, Aizen-sama, I did have one more question, but it was more personal.

-Ask away, my dear.

You attempt to push your boobs into your shirt discreetly with your arms. –Look, I was wondering…is there any way to request that a new uniform be put together for me to wear? This isn't exactly…my style.

Aizen nods like a suspicion has just been confirmed. –A different uniform was put on your bed, and you are entitled to that, if you desire it.

-Oh, I do! Thank you, Aizen-sama! you call, and hurry out of the doors, intent on getting to your room before anyone else can see you.

You reckon you'll be safe – after all, no one else is in the hallways, and you are walking quickly, intent on getting back to your quarters. As you stride through the halls, winding back to the rooms that belong to you and the safety of a new outfit, you are barely watching where you're going.

That's probably why you run headfirst into the person crossing the hall.

At the same time, you both leap away as if shocked. –Sorry, sorry! you instantly apologize, before you see exactly who it was that you ran into. He has short blue hair, and a jawbone mask on the side of his face, as well as teal markings under his eyes. He wears a jacket that exposes his abdomen and chest, and his Hollow hole pierces his stomach.

-Grimmjow? you ask uncertainly.

He lets that sink in for a moment, and then a huge smile spreads across his face. –Oh! It's you, sweetheart! Digging the legs, you know?

But he's not looking at your legs. You blush under the pink estigma. –It's Neliel, you say.

Surprise flits across his features, his eyes flick up to meet yours, but then he grins again. –Neliel. I like it. Very original. Very cute. Fucking amazing, actually. Who came up with that?

You roll your eyes at him. –I can't remember, care to enlighten me?

He pretends to think. –Oh yeah, it was me! he laughs. –I'm a genius, wouldn't you agree?

-Yes. You give him a playful little shove. It's so easy to flirt with him. When you get closer, you suddenly inhale his scent. That's probably the moment it changes.

He smells raw, he smells so new. He smells like he's been born again. He smells so masculine, and rough, and pitiless.

If pure sexual attraction has a smell, he is that smell. He embodies that smell.

Instantly your whole body feels like it's on fire. You take a shaky step back, the sex between your legs pulsing. Just his smell can illicit this much of a reaction?

Fuck.

-Is something wrong, sweetheart? he asks you. The pet name, before so innocent, seems now laced with hidden things that make the butterflies in your stomach flutter all the more frantically. He actually doesn't seem to understand what just happened, confusion making his thin blue eyebrows draw together. He reaches up and runs a hand through his tousled hair, bending down a little so he can look right at you.

Your mouth goes dry as you watch his hand leave his head, his hair falling back into place and looking sufficiently rugged.

-N-no…You fold your arms over your stomach, attempting to hold the feeling in. To squeeze it out of your system, to bury it in a deep dark hole.

He gets a little closer and his smell hits you again, his amazing smell. Your knees feel like jelly, but your feet are rooted to the spot. Your eyes connect.

-You sure?

You don't say anything. He frowns, and then something seems to hit him. His expression clears, and then a small grin creeps across his face.

-You like my new haircut? he asks you, his playful voice holding a darker, growly edge. You nod frantically, taking another step back. He follows you, stalking like a cat. Like a graceful, white panther.

-Or is it something else…?

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Inhaling through your nose seems like a really bad idea, but your bodily systems are all shutting down.

Fuck.

Another step, and your back hits the wall. He comes right up to you, his body brushing yours. Your head snaps up, and he looks down at you, his face in shadow and his eyes half-closed.

Fuck.

-I think…it's something else, he murmurs, his voice breathy. His arm hits the wall next to your head, but you don't even turn to look and see. Your eyes are glued to his face as he comes closer.

And closer.

Fuck.

When he's a centimeter away from you, he stops. His eyes are closed, but yours aren't. You can't see, you're frozen. His scent is inescapable, it coats your body, it's intensified to an extreme degree. You can taste it. It's a tangible smell.

Fuck.

His lips move, whispering to you, whiffs of breath washing over your face. –So what are you going to do? he asks.

In response, you lift your arms and rest them on his shoulders, twining your fingers together.

Then you move your head forward, and your lips touch.

_Fuck._

* * *

A/N: WHOA. I hope no one thinks that's too soon. I really felt the need to put a little bit of lime in this, just a little teaser…I think we all know that Grimmjow and Neliel are going to be an intensely physical couple, so this isn't too heavy…right…?

SO I have a really retarded joke, I'm going to tell the first part, and you guys can guess the answer okay? I hope y'all are still reading this…

Okay.. Why are there no cats on Mars?

That's the joke. I wouldn't live there, I love my kitties, but…why are there no cats on Mars? Take a guess..

Other news…? I read Fruits Basket last weekend and cried about a billion times. I really loved Hatsuharu, but I may be a little biased…lol. I also read the latest book in my favorite series and DIED BECAUSE IT WAS A FUCKING CLIFFHANGER AND IT'S THE LAST FUCKING BOOK.

I am also back in school, which is why this update took so long…sorry about that.

Anyway. What did you guys think? And why are there no cats on Mars? Review and tell me!


	4. threat

~B_e_fo_r_e Y_o__u __F_ade_d_~

4. threat

"i can't stop thinking about you. and i can't stop thinking about your love."

_can't stop. maroon 5. it won't be soon before long._

* * *

_You forgot to ask him his rank._

That's all you can think about, lying in bed that night – _what could his rank possibly be;_ not that it really matters, but now you have an insatiable curiosity that will only be satisfied once you discover what the answer is.

_Guess I'll just have to see him again _is what you think next, and a little shiver runs through you. Nope. No, not even going there, not going to even think about what happened on your way back from the meeting.

You roll onto your back and stare up at the ceiling. You're back in the robe that you had on earlier, since you didn't want to sleep in the new uniform that had been lying as promised on your bed. It's very nice, you even had time to try it on before you collapsed on your sheets in exhaustion. It covers up to your neck, and flows from your body like a tunic. It even has long sleeves. You rather think that maybe they're rubbing it in your face a little –_ fine you won't take our slutwear, we'll show you – _but you don't really care because you love the new uniform so much.

_Seriously though. What is it?_

-Grah, you say aloud, a little moan of irritation. You run your hands over your face, closing your eyes as the pads of your fingers rub your eyelashes the wrong way. Threading your fingers through your hair, you sigh and roll out on your side, stretching your arms before you. –Why can't I fall asleep…? you wonder aloud, bemoaning your tired body but racing mind.

You give up on the thought of sleep for now, sitting up in bed and swinging your slender legs over the side. Your toes land on the ground first, and the rest of your foot eases down afterwards, sliding down until they're pressed completely against the ground. You watch as your ankle bends 90 degrees, adjusting to your foot's new position. Your legs fascinate you, especially your feet – they're so flexible, so soft and pliable, with all those little toes that each seem to have their own function and all the little bits and pieces you can feel under your skin. Your knees are captivating too –weird bones that make weird shapes beneath your skin, bending in all sorts of directions.

_-Digging the legs, you know?_

Instantly a blush rises to your cheeks, and you shake your head furiously. –No, Neliel, you command yourself, don't even go there.

You don't really feel like changing into your whole uniform – you're just going for a short walk, right? You won't see Aizen-sama. You won't see Ichimaru or Tôsen, and you won't see _him._ He'll be asleep. Or training somewhere. He won't be around here. He'll be…

Frustrated, you shake your head again. _Stop it! Stop thinking about Grimmjow! Just… stop!_

You tie your robe closed and head for the door, opening it and setting off down the hall. You're just going to go for a quick walk, just to get some things off your mind, which will hopefully lead to sleep.

As you walk slowly down the hall, voices gradually begin to drift to your ears. You stop for a moment, eyeing the hallway ahead of you as two figures walk into your view and they stop, also sizing you up.

They are both very thin, although the first one is far more proportional – tall with blond hair and an open but scrutinizing face. His mask is shaped like a crescent, pointing upwards on his forehead. His eyes are a muddy green, and he has a slim but solid build. His uniform is basic and white and a purple sword is strapped to his hip. The other is very large, with an oversized head shaped like a watermelon, bulging eyes, and a rectangular mask covering his nose from just under his eyes to his upper lip. He is wearing a puffy white uniform, gloves, and has a short and stocky blade at his hip.

-Pesche? you ask. –Dondochakka?

-So it _is _you, my lady!

There is no warning – Pesche and Dondochakka glomph you before you can tell them that your new name is Neliel. You pat them both affectionately and draw them to arms length so that you can look them up and down.

-I see that the Arrancar transformation treated you both very kindly.

Dondochakka nodded his huge head. –Oh, yes, don'tcha know. We even have real faces now! He and Pesche turned and began patting the skin that was now visible on each other's faces.

-So boys, I have a favor to ask of you, you begin gently, watching as they snap to attention. –Relax, it's not mandatory, you reassure them. –I was wondering if you two would like to be my Fracción?

There is a short moment of silence.

Then you are glomphed again by the two enthusiastic Arrancar, hearing them squeal into your ear, tears of extravagant joy pouring from their eyes as they heartily proclaim their assent. Giggling, you gently separate yourself from them, smiling at their overjoyed expressions.

-I'll take that as a yes, then, you say.

* * *

Falling asleep after that is much easier than you had anticipated. As soon as your head hits the pillow, you are instantly dragged under by tiredness.

You find yourself once more in the clock tower room, facing the clock. It is still night outside, right after sunset, and the half-light spilling into the room gives the walls a purply glow. You can see the lights of a highway city beyond the window – lights from cars, from buildings, from gas stations and their accompanying quick-marts. All this is quite far below you, giving you the impression that you are quite high up in the air.

As you move to turn, you realize that you have shifted to your Hollow form. But something is different. Instead of the fur carpeting up to your shoulders, you see that the fur ends at your hips. Your upper body is clothed in your Espada uniform – or the top half of it, at least. Your shoulders and arms are clad in armor.

Completing the movement, you see Gamuza, your sword, facing you with a frown. Her arms are crossed, and she looks irritated. She clomps towards you, pulling a blade from her back, behind her armor.

-Draw your sword, Neliel, she orders you.

You look down at your waist. A simple katana hangs there, sans decorative hilt or fancy wrappings. You draw it uneasily, looking at Gamuza with confusion.

-But where is Gamuza?

-I'm right here, she answers impatiently with a toss of her fiery hair; -and there is no need to speak to me in the third person.

-I mean – You stutter and give up. –Look, what's going on?

-I told you to come back when you'd found yourself, did I not? She grips the sword in her hands tightly, and you can see that she is holding your normal zanpakuto. –And you have. Neliel tu Oderschvank. Segunda Espada. Wielder of Gamuza, soldier of Sôsuke Aizen, master of Pesche Guatiche and Dondochakka Bilstin. Lover of Grimmjow Jeagerjaques. She smirks on the last one as your face turns the color of her hair.

-Gamuza. That last one is incorrect. I am not Grimmjow's lover and never will be, you correct between gritted teeth. –Aizen-sama forbids romantic relationships of any kind.

-Fine. Wannabe lover of Grimmjow Jeagerjaques. You get my point, Neliel. Details are irrelevant.

-So are you going to tell me what I want to know now? I've put up with your teasing for long enough, _thank you._

She smirks again. –You mean the trigger word to call upon me?

-Yes.

-You'll figure it out when you need to. She whirls around, her tail flicking in the air. Angry, you start forward, ready to force the answer from her, but she is facing you again just as quickly, her sword up and ready with a dark scowl on her face.

-Don't you dare try and make me tell you anything, she hisses, thrusting with her sword. Quickly you bring up your own weapon, parrying her attack away.

-For now we will just be sparring, she growled. –I won't tell you anything until you have learned the basics of swordplay.

She steps forward with another thrust, and you block it quickly as her blade becomes a whirling blur of silver steel. You're on the defensive, stepping back with all four legs. Each time your weapons connect, a loud screech can be heard, and pain pulses up your arms, the strikes jarring your wrists until you can't hold on to the handle of your katana any longer. Gamuza's next attack sends your steel spinning from your hands, and you bend over, panting heavily.

-Again. Gamuza chucks the katana at you, and it lands tip-down in the wood floor, quivering. –Pick up your weapon. We are not done yet. She stands in front of you, her face shadowed, intimidating. –You are weak! You are ranked on potential alone, Neliel! We must make you strong!

With a gulp, you straighten and pull your blade from the floor.

-H-hai.

-Don't stutter! she roars, and you jump and nod frantically. With sudden fervor, she attacks you again. –Stand straight! she yells. –Throw back you shoulders and flaunt your breasts! Show confidence! Show your strength!

With each command, she attacks you again, slashing at your body with killing intent. Trying to ignore the pain that jolts up your wrists, you work hard to block her. Sweat begins to form on your forehead.

-Move faster! Gamuza urges. –Dodge quicker, Neliel. You are slow!

She slips past your guard and nicks your arm.

-Don't lose focus!

-Hai! Your response is loud and confident. –I won't!

A small smile slips across her face, but it is gone instantly. She presses forward again, and you start to notice the way she's fighting.

_There. A weakness._

You block one last swipe and then slip in, to her side. The next thing you know, your katana is gone and Gamuza's sword is at your throat.

-Very nice. I was wondering when you would notice that.

She lowers her sword, and you see that her own hair is plastered to her forehead. Beneath her armor, her chest is moving up and down a little faster than normal.

Instantly, you're pleased that you managed to give the lofty Hollow a workout.

-Take five, she says, clopping over to the clock window and looking out. You follow her slowly, taking your time to stand next to the queen-like centaur.

-Your new clothes. I like them, she says. –Much better than the old ones.

-Thank you, you murmur, gazing out at the city at dusk beneath the clock tower.

-I approve of your Fracción choice as well, she says. –I think those Arrancar will prove to be faithful and loyal to you. Perhaps even to a fault.

You stay silent at that one, but Gamuza's approval of Pesche and Dondochakka means a lot to you. You sneak a glance out of the corner of your eye at her. Her face is impassive as she stares out the window, the purple and orange sky seeming to light her hair aflame.

-And there's Grimmjow.

You stiffen. She notices.

-What? She turns to you. –Is there a problem? Are you ashamed of him?

-No.

It's a whisper. You close your eyes and confess to the Hollow. –I'm not ashamed. I am…I am afraid.

_Afraid of what?_

"I do not wish for any type of romantic relationship between my Arrancar. That makes weakness. And any weakness in this war could result in all of our deaths. I will not permit weakness."

-I see.

She looks at you with hard eyes.

-I do not permit fear.

She abruptly lifts her blade again, and the sound of clashing steel fills your ears once more.

* * *

You wake the next morning with a positive feeling running through the marrow of your bones. Although you thought you would be tired from your training with Gamuza the night before, you are pleased to find that that is not the case. Lucky, because if you were tired, you are pretty sure this would screw up the entire rest of the day, which you are certain is going to be very busy.

It doesn't take long to get dressed. You shimmy into your new clothes, which are comfortable and soft...Much better than the old ones that you had before. Gamuza was right - they do look fabulous on you. They make you look like a respectable woman. Much nicer than yesterday's.

What will Grimmjow think of this costume? you wonder. Then you shake your head and pick up your sword. Stop it, you sound obsessed. You need to get him out of your head. Seriously.

With Gamuza strapped safely to your belt, you slip on your sandals and head out.

You are getting a little hungry. But, to your dismay, there is one thing that the Shinigamification didn't seem to fix. You recognize the hunger as the same insatiable desire for souls...the same desire that you had as a Vasto Lorde. Disappointment fills you; you were hoping that maybe you could be a more civilized being now that you walked upright like a civilized being. But you should have known that once you got hungry, all the pretenses would be dropped...your true animalistic nature would emerge. You aren't fooling anyone anymore.

Especially not yourself.

Spirits lowered, you droop your shoulders a little bit and head out of the room, heading for the training arena. You had heard some of the Arrancars talking about it the day before, and you have the idea that you will go down there and practice some of the techniques Gamuza taught you about the night before. The hunger can wait. Surely there is a way that the Arrancar breed feeds besides killing? If not, then you aren't quite sure what the point of your evolution was, exactly. Wasn't the point of evolution to adapt to a new environment, to become a more advanced being?

-Apparently not, you mutter irritably to yourself.

Dejected, you continue to trudge your way to the training arena. Attempting to distract yourself, you cast your thoughts around and settle on the other Espada - your new peers. The exuberant Dordoni, the zen Zommari, the creepy Nnoitra, sinister Barragan, lumbering Yammy, crafty Szayelaporro, feminine Cirucci, and sleepy Starrk. What a cast of characters this was turning out to be. The next stage in your life would certainly prove to be interesting.

Turning, you come into the training arena. There is a large sandy cleared-out space in the middle, lined by a railing. Bleachers go up in a circle around it, and it's obvious that this place was built so that many people could watch the individuals in the arena spar with each other. You narrow your eyes as you see the Espada Nnoitra battling a lesser-ranked Arrancar in the arena, and you climb up onto a seat without ripping your eyes from the two.

The eighth Espada is clearly much more powerful than the lesser Arrancar. Nnoitra seems to be simply toying with him. The smaller soldier is covered with scrapes and blood and cuts, and is clearly exhausted. But Nnoitra continues to whirl around him eagerly, laughing as the other Arrancar's skin is sliced by his weapon again and again.

Finally the Arrancar collapses from sheer exhaustion and blood loss. Nnoitra's smile disappears instantly, and he plants one curled-toe shoe on his shoulder.

-Get up! he roars. –We're not finished yet! He rolls the Arrancar back and forth, his anger building when he gets no response.

-I SAID, get up! Lazy bastard!

-Nnoitra.

Your voice is quiet. Nnoitra looks up, his face twisting in surprise and then revulsion and anger when he sees you.

-Oh, it's you, Neliel. I didn't even see you come in, he says bitterly.

-You remembered my name. I have to say, I'm impressed.

He scowls and returns to shaking the Arrancar, shouting obscenities at the weaker being.

-Nnoitra.

-What d'you want, bitch?! he shouts without thinking. You ignore the derogatory term.

-Let the boy be. You've won. You don't need to play with weaker beings than yourself. Control your impulses.

-Eh? he says, rage in his voice. –Are you tryin'a tell me what t' do?

-Yes, you confirm, your voice still soft. –There is no need to torture him.

-You don't get it, he shouts, -he's weak, he deserves t' die! There's no room for weaklings in this world!

You stand.

-Nnoitra, as a higher ranked Espada I order you to leave that Arrancar alone and depart from this arena immediately.

Abruptly, he draws his leg away, then kicks the other Arrancar across the arena, where he comes to a stop and is still. –Bitch, he mutters. –But I can't leave the arena. I've still got someone else comin' in t' fight me. Number twelve will be upset if I leave without 'im.

-I doubt he will mind that much, you mutter to yourself. The door opens, and you cast your eyes to see who is entering. Then your whole body goes numb.

_Grimmjow._

He has eyes only for Nnoitra; he has not even seen you yet. You sit back down quickly, trying to make yourself invisible.

-Nnoitra-sama, he says curtly.

-Eh, it's the twelfth, Nnoitra says eagerly, seeming to have forgotten about you. –This should be good, huh?

Grimmjow draws his aqua-handled blade, and Nnoitra readies his own crescent-shaped weapon. With a sadistic grin, Nnoitra leaps at Grimmjow, clearly ready to take him down in one swing. But Grimmjow blocks Nnoitra effortlessly, a smile of his own smearing across his face.

-This isn't going to be easy, Grimmjow informs Nnoitra.-Just because you're an Espada doesn't mean you're stronger than me.

-Yeah it does, ya moron, Nnoitra spits at Grimmjow. The two fly apart, skidding to a stop and sending sand clouds flying. Both ready their weapons and begin circling each other, trying to find an opening.

You narrow your eyes and lean forward, cradling your chin with your hand. Nnoitra's smile is slowly fading as he begins to realize that he's not going to be able to simply destroy Grimmjow as easily. In turn, Grimmjow is still boasting his broad grin, but his eyes are focused, intent on Nnoitra's movements, studying each muscle for a weakness, a way he can get through. Your eyes move to the blue-haired Arrancar – number 12, apparently. As he circles with his back to you, you can clearly see the two-digit number on his left lower back. His muscles ripple beneath tan skin, his head is lowered between broad shoulders spanned by white fabric.

Suddenly Nnoitra flies at Grimmjow, pressing in, attacking quickly. Grimmjow blocks him easily, a laugh escaping from his lips as the fight escalates and they are both suddenly flying at each other, clashing blade on blade, metal on metal, sparks flying. You study Grimmjow some more, as he is absorbed in fighting now, taking this opportunity to run your eyes over his new frame and lose yourself in thoughts.

Last night.

You had kissed Grimmjow, twining your hands behind his neck, his hands pressed against your hips as you lost yourself in the taste of his mouth. That was, until he broke away, and you both panted for air.

-Look, he had rasped. –I don't think I'll be able to control myself…

Red flooded your cheeks as he lifted his hands from your waist. Your hands slid from his neck, trailing over his chest. But before they could pass his ribs, he grasped them with a tight hand, lifting them from his heated skin.

-I'm serious, Nel.

_Nel._ The name sends shivers up your spine. A nickname for you, from Grimmjow.

-Sorry, he breathes, planting one last kiss on your forehead.

He was gone soon after that, having disappeared down the hall. You leaned against the wall for a few moments, chest heaving, skin sweaty. Then you picked yourself up and set off down the hall in the opposite direction, toward your room.

A shout rouses you from your thoughts, and you pick up your head and blink, seeing Nnoitra's sword spinning through the air – right towards your head. With a small –eep, you dive to the side as the giant semi-circle blade impales itself on the bench right where you were sitting.

Shakily, you push yourself up and gasp at the scene below. Grimmjow is standing over the kneeling Nnoitra, his blade pressed to the Octava's throat. Nnoitra's face is full of rage.

-I win, Grimmjow says simply.

Nnoitra attempts to push himself back up, but Grimmjow keeps his sword leveled with the former's throat. –Admit it, he gloats. –You lost.

-N-no! Nnoitra cries, and clenches his fist. He swings for the joint of Grimmjow's legs, and the 12th Arrancar hurriedly dances out of the way. Nnoitra leaps to his feet, taking a fighting stance.

-I'm not done yet!

Sighing, you lean over and wrench Nnoitra's overlarge blade from the bench with a loud clang. Both of the men below snap their heads towards the noise, and Nnoitra hisses.

Grimmjow's eyes widen momentarily, then lower to normal.

Stepping delicately down from the benches, you sling the blade over your shoulder and hop over the railing into the arena. Drawing closer to the two men, you take the blade and stab it into the sand at Nnoitra's feet.

-I believe this belongs to you.

-Bitch! Nnoitra screams, snatching his sword from the dirt. He attacks you with a bloodthirsty fervor, but you hold up your arm and stop his onslaught with your skin alone.

-You have lost, Nnoitra. Give it up.

-I don't give up! Nnoitra yells.

Sighing again, you clench your fist and swing under his attack, connecting with his gut. He doubles over, and you flip over his body, landing a second punch on his cheek, which causes him to fall to his side in the dirt.

-Like I said earlier, you say coldly. –I order you to leave this Arrancar alone and depart the arena immediately.

Cursing rapidly, Nnoitra pulls himself to his feet and snatches his sword from the sand. He slings it over his shoulder and stalks from the room – but when he reaches the door, he stops and turns.

-I'll kill you, Grimmjow, he vowed in a low voice. –I will kill you, mark my words. I don't know when and I don't know how. But your death is coming…I swear it.

The door shut behind him with a sinister bang, and your eyes narrow after it. You were going to need to keep an eye on that one.

* * *

A/N: :plants feet firmly on the ground, grabs chapter by the scruff of its godforsaken neck, and pulls with all her strength:

Eheheheh…Hi :weak, nervous smile:

So I know it's been too long, and I sincerely apologize for that. This chapter was just not working, until I sat down this morning and it just…flowed.

But note, it took this long to make it just…flow.

Well, whatever. I don't think that this'll happen again. The plot is about to pick up ^.^ and I am so excited for what will be happening coming up in the future.

By the way, the theme songs for this fic are "I Wanna" by the All-American Rejects and "Resistance" by Muse. I highly recommend you look them up, if you don't know them already.

Please leave a review if you liked it!


	5. revealed

~B_e_fo_r_e Y_o__u __F_ade_d_~

5. revealed

"here's a song for the nights i drink too much and spill my words."

_heaven can wait. we the kings. smile kid._

* * *

The bang from Nnoitra's sudden departure had startled you, but now you were recovering, and with that comes acute awareness of the fact that you and Grimmjow are completely alone in the room. His back is to you, but his head is turned towards you, and he is barely looking over his shoulder through eyes at half-mast. Your head is turned towards him, and your breathing hitches at the look on his face. Like a smoldering flame. The room is silent except for the wet beating of your heart.

Then, all of a sudden, you hear a noise like someone sucking in air from a straw. Before you can even blink your lips are being attacked. Your body responds to his embrace before your mind can catch up, and your raise your arms to his neck. A small part of you registers a soft moan. Who it might be coming from, you have no idea.

Hands run through hair, over bumpy, exposed bone. Your fingers trace over the teeth on the side of Grimmjow's face, around each sharp canine. His body presses against you and you can feel his hard muscle press against your chest.

-I like…your new…uniform, he whispers harshly against your mouth, leaving your lips and kissing his way down your neck, to your throat. One of his large hands slides up and peels back the collar of your uniform so he can bend and suckle at your collar. Your back arches at the feeling of his tongue swirling against your skin and the nip of his teeth. Fingers clench in his hair as he finishes with the hickey and stares proudly at it before covering it back up. You pull him up again and cover his lips with yours, framing his cheeks with your hands, your thumbs caressing skin on one side and cold bone on the other.

-Nel, he whispers. His voice is a rasp. -I couldn't stop thinking about you, he confesses, -ever since last night, you've been on my mind.

-Same, you agree, the word slipping from your throat unbidden. He takes this as an invitation and kisses you even more furiously, hid hunger evident with each press of his lips. You try to match his fervor, gripping his head tightly, digging your fingers into his scalp. His fingers dig into the skin above your hips and below your ribs and you feel like you are going to explode.

-Neliel?!

You and Grimmjow trip over each other in your haste to get apart. But it's too late. You look up at the door, your cheeks stained red, and see Cirucci, Gantenbainne, and Dordoni standing there. All of them look shocked and horrified.

-What's going on? Gantenbainne demands.

-N…nothing, you protest weakly. But you know they know. It's over for you already. You and Grimmjow were not holding each other in a purely sexual embrace. Anyone observing would assume you were lovers.

-Neliel, Cirucci whispers. –That was not nothing.

-How long? Grimmjow says, -how long were you standing there?

-Long enough, mi amigo, Dordoni says. His voice is grim. –You and Neliel…

His voice trails off. It's obvious what he is thinking. _You're screwed._

You take a step towards them, clasp your fingers at your waist. –Please, don't tell anybody…especially not Lord Aizen. Tears are welling in your eyes, and your lip is trembling. _I don't want to die.. Not here, not now…_

To your surprise, Cirucci steps forward and puts her arm around your body. You can feel yourself trembling. –Don't worry, she says, and she strokes your back. –We're not going to tell anybody.

You're startled into a hug back, and you press the smaller woman to you, trying to show her your gratitude somehow without words.

-You should probably go now, Gantenbainne says quietly, and you release Cirucci, step back, and flee from the room without so much as a backwards glance towards your lover.

Tears are running down your cheeks as you dash through the tall white halls, hurrying towards your rooms and slamming the door behind you. Once safely inside, you press against the door and take several deep breaths, gulping air.

To be frank, you are terrified. Aizen is still mostly a big mystery to you. You don't know what he is capable of, what his true motivations may be, how far he will go to get his point across. All you know is that he is immensely powerful, so powerful he could probably snap your very neck with a wave of his hand. The last thing you want to do is cross him. You've only been here for a couple of days and already you've done that very thing. Your fate could very much rest on the shoulders of Dordoni, Cirucci, and Gantenbainne – three individuals who you don't know anything about save for their names. You don't know if they will keep that secret.

All you can do is hope.

Slowly you walk to the bathroom, wiping the last of the tears from your eyes. Shakily you close the door and undress from your white costume, moving to turn the shower on. Hot water spills from the nozzle and you step under it gratefully, rubbing your upper arms as your skin adjusts to the temperature. You stand under the heat for about half an hour without washing anything before you sigh and step out, wrapping yourself in a towel and going out to your bedroom to search for some clothing.

A small shriek escapes your mouth when you see someone sitting on your bed, but you relax when you realize it's only Gamuza. Her legs are folded under her, and she has her metal gloves lying next to her on the bed so she can pick at her fingers.

-Goodness, you scared me, you profess shakily, running a hand over your mask perched on your head.

-Neliel.

Her voice stops you, and you freeze with your nervous smile still on your face. –Eh?

-What have we talked about so far? she asks calmly with a dangerous edge to her voice.

-Umm…specifically? you ask, stalling for time, because you have no idea what she is talking about.

She is silent.

-Do other people's zanpakutos materialize themselves so often? you wonder out loud.

-We have talked about this as well, she says. –I am not your zanpakuto, I am your Hollow spirit. And we can do as we please. I feel that you still are an incompetent individual so I show myself more often than the rest, this is true.

Your eyebrows narrow. All hint of playfulness is gone now. –Incompetent individual?

-You heard me. She still has not looked at you. Her fingers are swiping at each other with dangerous accuracy.

-Do you want something from me, Gamuza? you ask.

-What have I told you about fear, Neliel?

-Fear? Your voice is startled, but then you remember.

-You don't permit it, you say, and you sound like a stubborn child who is being forced to concede that she is wrong.

-I do not permit fear, she said. –You fear me. You fear Grimmjow, you fear those three idiot Espada, you fear your master Aizen. I would even go so far as to say that you have fear for your Fracción. Why, after I so clearly described my status to you, would you disobey me so blatantly?

-Fear is an instinct, you say. –I cannot control it. And believe me, I wish I could.

-Do not stand before me and _lie_ to me! Gamuza finally looks at you and her mauve eyes are blazing with anger. –You _can_ control it but you do not wish to! I know you, Neliel, perhaps better than you know yourself. I live within your soul! Your fear is crushing me. My armor is dented.

She picks up one of the metal gloves and throws it at you. You catch it easily and look at it. The fingers are crushed flat, she is right.

-This fear, she says. –What are you going to do to control it? It is eating away at your heart, your soul. You cannot survive if you are so terrified. Our bodies are not compatible with constant fear. _You. Must. Control. It._

You are speechless.

-But Aizen, you say. –I do not know what he will do if he discovers.

-What do you fear from him? she hisses. –Pain? You can handle pain. You are a Hollow. Death? What is there to fear from death? Have you forgotten all there is here and now? You are already dead, remember?

-I…I fear the unknown, you confess. –I do not know if Aizen will hurt me, torture me, cast me out, or kill me. He may erase my memories, he may leave me for dead. I do not know. And I will not know until it happens.

-So what are you going to do? she asks. –Are you going to let him succeed? Are you going to let that man get the better of you? He is controlling you with his power. He knows you are scared. He can tell your weakness and he is using it to his advantage. Creating fear is what he does best. So is that what you are going to let him do? I am _ashamed_ of you.

-But –

She's gone, just as suddenly as she came. The glove is gone from her hand, and you are left dripping in the doorway. On your bed, there is no imprint of her being there.

Sighing, you finish drying, then dress and lay on your bed. Staring up at the ceiling, you wonder for the first time if coming with Aizen was really the best idea.

It won't be your last.

* * *

A/N: Gosh, I am so sorry for this chapter. Let's be honest. It's short, it's lame, and it is late as hell. After taking my hiatus in November, I really struggled with getting back on track with my fanfiction. Then I had finals, holidays, and a leap in my romantic personal life to handle. But today I sat down and squeezed it out.

Hopefully I will be posting a longer chapter much sooner, but here is an appetizer as an apology. I really love everyone who will still be reading this and I appreciate your patience with my slow, stupid self.

Anyway, reviews are loved, as usual, and I wish you all a Happy New Years.


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